Kaede's Village.
Shinji sat at the head of the newly renovated main hall of the shrine, surveying his surroundings with an inscrutable expression. The vermillion pillars had been given a fresh coat of lacquer. The gilded bells beneath the eaves chimed in the night wind. The tatami carried the fresh scent of new straw. Even the tea bowls on the low table had been replaced with glazed ceramics.
Kikyō sat at his left, her white uwagi and crimson hakama immaculate, her longbow resting at her knee. She held her tea bowl, her gaze level ahead, her expression as usual. But the corner of her lips carried an exceedingly faint smile.
She liked the new shrine. Though she would not say it. She was still a girl, after all. Though Kikyō would not pursue such vanities, it was impossible to say she disliked them, especially now that this was her beloved's shrine. If possible, Kikyō naturally hoped it would look a little better.
"So… all of this was Hōjō Ujiyasu's doing?"
Shinji's crimson demon eyes swept across the orderly roads outside the main hall, the brand-new townhouses, and the distant silhouettes of craftsmen still packing up their tools.
Kenshin knelt on the right side below. Her deep indigo hair hung over her shoulders. Her violet pupils looked at Shinji as she nodded slightly.
"Mn. Lady Hōjō began construction the day after she arrived. The craftsmen and building materials were summoned from Sagami… I counted—just the timber alone was transported in over forty carts. I took a look. They were all very precious woods. Many of them I had only seen descriptions of in books."
"Over forty carts?"
Shinji was somewhat surprised. Though not an immense amount… forty-some carts of timber, all precious woods, in this era of competing warlords, rising heroes, rampant demons, and poor transportation, even for the Hōjō clan with its abundant wealth, it was not something that could be casually produced.
Momiji knelt beside Kenshin, her black shoulder-length hair swaying. She added, "Lady Hōjō said it was 'repairing the divine domain in the name of the Demon God.' And then she just did it. I couldn't stop her even if I wanted to—"
The little miko's tone carried a note of tongue-clicking astonishment at such profligate spending.
Botan poked half her head out from behind Momiji and whispered, "Even the stone lanterns along the approach outside are new. They light up on their own every night. I heard it's a mage's spell…"
Kaede crouched on the threshold, her twin-tails swinging, her seven- or eight-year-old face full of excitement.
"Brother Shinji, the roads are wider now too! You don't step in mud when you walk! That not-very-big sister is a good person too, right?"
"…"
Though it was a grateful remark, if Hōjō Ujiyasu had heard it, she likely would not have been pleased….
Shinji mused for a moment, then looked at Kenshin.
"…So you're saying....she did all this just to wait for me here?"
"Waited ten days." Kenshin answered.
"And left today?"
"Half an incense stick ago."
Half an incense stick.
When he had landed, Hōjō Ujiyasu had just departed. Off by half an incense stick. Less than half an hour, before and after.
"…How does that woman always miss it by just a little?"
This time, even Shinji couldn't help but say it.
Once could be called an accident. Twice could be called poor timing. Three times, could only be called fate.
Kikyō held her tea bowl and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Her dark pupils were still brimming with that faint smile. She said nothing. But that gaze clearly said; You sympathize with her?
Shinji did not deny it. Nor would he. He leaned back against the pillar, his crimson demon eyes gazing at the newly repaired eaves.
Hōjō Ujiyasu.
To be honest, his impression of this woman had always been subtle. Just as she herself was self-aware.
In political maneuvering, she was truly far inferior to Yoshimoto. In military talent, she could not compare to Takeda or Uesugi. In terms of emotional investment in him personally, Hōjō Ujiyasu could not really be said to have any.
But even though her "investment" in Shinji was utilitarian, it had never been low.
From the very beginning, the authority of a province. The faith of two provinces. And now, roads, houses. A renovated shrine. Hundreds of craftsmen summoned from Sagami. A small village transformed into a nascent town.
And in the end, after waiting ten days without seeing him, she had silently packed up and left. Without leaving behind a single word of complaint.
"She truly did a great deal."
Kikyō set down her tea bowl. She would not deny it either.
"This shrine is now more dignified than any great shrine in Musashi, or even the entire Kantō. When worshippers come to pray, the first thing they see is the torii she built."
Those words were spoken with perfect clarity, and concision.
Hōjō Ujiyasu's additional investment had not been wasted. The direct effect of the shrine's renovation, faith was more concentrated. Six tiers of vermillion torii. A clean approach. Stone lanterns that lit themselves at night. A brand-new main hall, solemn and majestic.
To ordinary common folk, this grandeur was proof of the god's efficacy. Faith would converge further because of it. And the endpoint of that convergence, was Shinji.
Kikyō, as Shinji's miko, would benefit as well. Kaede's Village's status as the central Shintō seat of two provinces would be further solidified. And the residents nearby would all enjoy lives far better than before.
Hōjō Ujiyasu might not understand reiryoku or demonic energy, but instinctively, she had done the most correct thing. She had reinforced the foundation of faith through construction.
Shinji was silent for a moment.
"Kenshin."
"I am here."
"Where is Yoshimoto now?"
Kenshin thought for a moment.
"According to Kanetsugu's report, the Imagawa main army has continued west from Owari. They have already taken most of eastern Ise and are advancing toward Ōmi. Not counting flanking forces and logistics, the main force alone numbers nine thousand. Saitō Dōsan's Mino troops have also been integrated into the ranks."
Nine thousand.
Imagawa Yoshimoto's march on the capital, her main force had already approached ten thousand. If one added the absorbed remnants of Owari and the Mino Saitō forces that had sworn allegiance along the way, the actual mobilizable combat strength was even greater.
Kyōto was drawing nearer. Yoshimoto was moving fast.
Though Taigen Sessai was dead, the route to the capital that the strategist had laid out in life, the tripartite alliance, the centralized consolidation, the overwhelming force grinding along the Tōkaidō, was being faithfully executed by Yoshimoto.
And on this side,
If Yoshimoto marched on the capital, the Kantō would be empty. The actual administrators of Suruga, Tōtōmi, and Mikawa had left their home provinces. The garrison forces would inevitably be thin.
And though his Hyakki Yakō covered the Kantō and the northeastern provinces, demon affairs could be managed. Human affairs required humans.
He needed an agent. Someone who could stabilize the Kantō after Yoshimoto marched west.
After all, Imagawa Yoshimoto wanted the realm. Shinji also needed to march on the capital, to deal with his enemies. For that, they both needed a stable rear.
Takeda Shingen was holed up in Kai and Shinano, yet still eyeing the Kinai. Uesugi Kenshin was stationed outside the village, but the Echigo army would eventually have to return to Echigo.
The one who could take root in the Kantō, manage it, and maintain order, was only the Hōjō.
And speaking of the Hōjō, and that Kaguya who had suddenly appeared on her own this time…
Shinji suddenly recalled something.
Kaguya's Celestial Robe, according to the original records, seemed to be in the hands of the Hōjō clan?
"Kenshin. Send someone to deliver a message to Hōjō Ujiyasu for me."
Though he could have had Tanuki Jūsaburō's tanuki intelligence network deliver it, those were demons, after all.
Demon affairs to demons. Human affairs to humans.
Yet the god sat securely at the center, able to arbitrate both sides.
Kenshin's violet pupils brightened faintly.
"In the name of Kishin Mikoto-no-Mitama, I promise, during Yoshimoto's march on the capital, the order of the Kantō may be entrusted to the Hōjō to maintain. All disputes among the Kantō provinces, the Hōjō shall have the authority to arbitrate on my behalf."
"Beyond that, I will write a letter to her as a seal of authority."
The weight of those words was immense.
The authorization of the Lord of Thirteen Provinces' demons, a Shintō shōshin, an existence revered spontaneously by the common folk, in this Warring States era, was enough to elevate the Hōjō clan's legitimacy in the Kantō above any competitor.
This was, in a sense, Shinji's return on Hōjō Ujiyasu's investment.
A return of a god's, a "daiyōkai's" endorsement!
Kenshin nodded.
"I will have Kanetsugu relay it."
Echigo was not in the Kantō. The Uesugi main family was not here. Though the previous Kenshin had frequently marched south to invade the Kantō, at least the current second-generation Kenshin had no designs on the Kantō.
Shinji rose. The hem of his gray robe brushed across the newly laid tatami.
"She spent ten days building roads. I should give something in return."
Kikyō rose as well, her longbow behind her back. She followed Shinji step for step, her hands naturally taking his, fingers interlaced.
It drew a glance from Kenshin who felt, inexplicably, a pang of envy.
At the same moment.
A thousand kms away.
Eastern Ise Province.
Imagawa Yoshimoto's main army was encamped upon the Ise Plain. Her twelve-layered kimono wrapped layer upon layer around her delicate frame. Her exquisite features were especially radiant in the firelight.
Yoshimoto sat within the command tent of the main camp. Before her was spread a map from Owari to Kyōto. The tip of her brush, dipped in ink, circled the border between Ōmi and Ise.
"Next month—into Ōmi."
Within the tent, Niwa Nagahide knelt to the side, her slender figure elongated by the candlelight. Chestnut hair in a low bun. Light gray kimono, deep blue haori.
She held the latest compiled provisions list. The former Oda strategist, who had voluntarily handed over all accounts upon capture, had now become the logistical core of Yoshimoto's main camp.
"My lady, marching from Ise into Ōmi, there are three passes along the way that must be opened. At the fastest, it will take twenty days."
"Twenty days is enough."
Yoshimoto set down her brush and leaned back in her commander's chair. A leisurely smile surfaced upon her delicate features.
But the longing beneath that smile, Niwa Nagahide could see it clearly.
This young female daimyō of sixteen or seventeen, after escaping death at Okehazama and personally witnessing heaven and earth overturned at Mount Hakurei, had completely transformed.
No longer the greenhouse flower hiding behind Taigen Sessai.
If Shinji were here, he would surely see what was condensing behind Yoshimoto… a new symbol of the Mandate of Heaven. Yet no longer Taigen Sessai's gift, but her own.
That was, unmistakably, a three-legged divine bird… the Yatagarasu.
A future ruler of the realm, manifesting the sun, rising steadily!
"Oh, right—"
Yoshimoto suddenly tilted her head, her tone turning lighter.
"On the Kantō side, Shinji has returned to Musashi, hasn't he?"
Niwa Nagahide's expression shifted subtly for an instant.
"Yes. According to scout reports, the Hyakki Yakō moved south from Mutsu several days ago and has returned to Kaede's Village in Musashi."
"Mn."
Yoshimoto's finger traced across the map to the position of Kyōto.
"Once I enter Kyōto—"
She murmured something. Her voice was too soft. Niwa Nagahide did not catch it. But she saw the tips of Yoshimoto's ears turn red.
And so the moon set and the sun rose, and the long night reached its end.
Afterward.
Morning sunlight filtered down through the brand-new eaves, falling upon the approach before the shrine's main hall. Six tiers of vermillion torii stretched from the foot of the mountain to its midsection. The vermillion was especially striking in the dawn light.
The stone lanterns along the approach extinguished themselves after sunrise. The residual warmth of the previous night lingered at their mouths.
Shinji stood beside the highest torii. The wind blew in from the mountains. The hem of his gray robe swayed gently.
Kikyō stood at his side, her longbow behind her back, her black hair drifting faintly in the morning breeze.
"What are you doing here?"
Kikyō tilted her eyes toward him.
Shinji did not answer. Instead, he looked down at the scene below.
From this vantage,
With the shrine as its center, three roads extended outward, linking the dozen or so villages that had gathered around. The roads were orderly. The townhouses were arranged in neat rows. In the distance, fields and streams flickered in and out of view within the morning mist. Chimney smoke curled upward. Chickens crowed. Dogs barked.
It already had the shape of a small town.
But Shinji knew, this was only the beginning.
Musashi Province.
Also known as the future Edo… and centuries later, after humanity entered the modern age, the international metropolis of Tokyo.
"This place needs a name."
Shinji spoke.
Kikyō's gaze returned from below, settling on him.
"What will you call it?"
"Kikyō Castle."
The two words landed.
The surroundings fell silent for a moment.
Kikyō's lashes trembled. Within her dark pupils was reflected his face, the vermillion torii behind him, and further still, the villages and fields spread outward, linked by roads.
Her name.
He had crowned this castle with her name.
"…Are you serious?"
"Have you ever seen me joke about something like this?" Shinji replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "This city has my shrine. And you are my miko… So this city, naturally, should belong to you."
"…"
Kikyō asked no more. She turned her head back, gazing down once more at that town slowly awakening below.
She was silent for a few seconds.
The corner of her lips curved into a very faint arc.
"And the villages connected by the roads?"
"Maple Town."
This time Kikyō truly smiled, though it was only half a measure more at the corner of her lips.
Maple.
Her younger sister's name.
Kikyō Castle. Maple Town.
A castle named after her. A castle town named after her sister.
This man, this demon, this Māra, this "Demon God", when it came to such things, was truly more direct than any sweet words.
"You're always like this."
Kikyō spoke softly.
"Like what?"
"You don't say sweet things. You only do things people can't refuse."
Shinji smiled. Then he drew something from his robes.
Very small. So small that Kikyō did not see it clearly at first.
He opened his right palm.
A hairpin.
The shaft was carved from a side branch of the Sacred Tree. Its natural grain flowed like ripples on water. At the head of the pin was embedded an exceedingly small bead, not a gemstone. It was a crystal condensed from his fusion of blood-fire and spiritual resonance.
Dark crimson base.
Within it, an exceedingly faint white light flowed.
Fire and spirit, coexisting.
The meaning…
He and she, coexisting.
"When did you prepare this?"
Kikyō's voice was much softer than usual. Much gentler.
"From the day I returned from the underworld."
Half a month since returning from the underworld. A side branch of the Sacred Tree. A crystal condensed from the power of the Five Viscera. And the blood-fire warmth of the Shura-Heart,
This hairpin was not a weapon. Not a ritual artifact. Just a gift. For one person alone.
"Kikyō."
"…Mn?"
Shinji's crimson demon eyes looked directly into her dark pupils.
"Marry me."
Two words.
Morning light struck the torii. The vermillion lacquer reflected a warm light, spilling between the two of them.
Kikyō did not retreat. Did not lower her head.
Upon her cold, clear features, that composure she had maintained for over a decade, that composure that had never fully shattered even between the sheets, shattered.
"…What?"
"Marry me."
He repeated it.
"I may have many more campaigns ahead. I don't know when I'll truly have leisure. Don't know how many more battles I'll fight, but I don't want to wait until later to say what I've actually wanted to say for a very long time. Some things must be done before I leave. I know I am greedy. In the future, even now, I will have many. But I can promise you: you are my only miko. And my most important beloved. No one else comes close. You will always be at my side, occupying the most important place—"
Greedy. Yet unwavering.
This was the foundation of Shinji as a ma. He had never wanted to leave behind regrets. Nor did he want to plant any flag of "when I return, we'll marry."
He only wanted now.
Immediately.
At once!
One could only say, Hōjō Ujiyasu's renovation of Kaede's Village had given Shinji his opportunity. Beneath such splendor, many words, once spoken, became natural and inevitable.
If Hōjō Ujiyasu had been here, she would surely have complained: So am I just part of your play?
Unfortunately, she was not here. And she did not understand what "play" meant.
In Shinji's eyes, at this moment, there was only the miko before him.
His miko.
Kikyō looked at him. The light within her dark pupils churned. Her breathing lost its rhythm.
"You—"
She opened her mouth. Her voice was exceedingly soft, like wind brushing the water's surface. It sounded inexplicable.
"Even your proposal uses a commanding tone."
"It's a request." Shinji responded earnestly.
"It doesn't sound like one."
"Then I'll change the phrasing."
Shinji held the hairpin before her.
"Kikyō, will you marry me?"
The cold, clear miko looked at the slender hairpin in his palm. At the crystal upon its head where dark crimson and white light intertwined. At that pale, handsome face, at the way the golden ring within his crimson demon eyes rotated slowly.
Then she extended her hand.
She took the hairpin and slid it into her hair by her temple. The crystal at its head rested against her hairline. The dark crimson light intertwined with her black hair, set against her pale cheek.
"…Yes."
One word.
She truly could not refuse. Refuse this scene she had, in truth, dreamed of many times.
As said before.
Kikyō was, in the end, a girl. A girl living in the Warring States era, an age of ceaseless war, yet deeply feudal, who had always yearned to grow old together with her beloved.
Shinji heard her.
Then he stepped forward, reached out, and cradled the back of her head.
He lowered his head—
The kiss fell upon her forehead.
Then lower.
Upon her lips.
Kikyō did not evade. Her hand released the bowstring and came to rest upon the front of his gray robe.
The morning wind swept past the six tiers of torii.
The gilded bells produced an exceedingly clear, bright chime.
Below, in Maple Town, the chimney smoke was thick and rising.
.
.
.
.
T/n: Kaede (楓) is the Japanese word for Maple.